


Extinguished

by katabasis (aphorat)



Category: LUNA SEA
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphorat/pseuds/katabasis
Summary: Sugizo tries to keep working despite his ankle and foot injuries. Ryuichi persuades him to rest.





	Extinguished

It's a matter of weeks before the bones in Sugizo's ankle and foot begin to heal, but it takes longer still for the ligaments and tendons to mend themselves, and by January the cold has crept into his muscles and settled there, making them ache more than they otherwise would. He weathers it well though, whether he should be or not, and the first half of performances at Budokan go off without any major complications. But setting out at a run across the stage multiple days in a row isn't exactly the most intelligent thing he's done, and by the time they take a break in between the first and second set of concerts the pressure he's put on his healing feet has reduced the pace at which he walks to a limp.

Sugizo decides he'll take it easy during the brief lull between performances, but in his line of work that's easier said than done. Ryuichi finds him in his studio late that afternoon, fiddling with effects pedals instead of keeping off his feet. "And here I thought," the vocalist begins, stepping into the room as the other man looks up, "you were supposed to be resting today." His tone is light but it comes across as scolding nonetheless, and Sugizo has the good grace to look sheepish as he steps away from the mass of wires at his feet.

"I was just trying something out," he explains, setting his guitar in its stand and shifting to wipe down the strings. "For the next round of concerts, I thought that maybe—"

"What you need to do," Ryuichi cuts in, walking across the room to close the distance between them, "is rest. Your ankle will never heal completely if you keep putting strain on it like you have been." His lips press into a thin line after he says it, but the concern is clear in his eyes as he looks up at the other man.

"I know that," Sugizo admits, tossing his cleaning cloth on a nearby desk and dipping his head down to kiss him, slow and brimming with fondness. "I just," he begins, sighing as Ryuichi's fingers trace the tattoos along his forearm. "I want to be at my best. I want the next shows to be even better, and—"

"What I want," Ryuichi interrupts again, looking up long-sufferingly as the guitarist's lip curls into a pout, "is for my guitarist to be healthy again, and that requires rest. Come on," he adds, squeezing the other man's arm before his hand drops down to his wrist. "We're going to your room, okay?"

"Okay," Sugizo echoes, allowing the other man to lead him out of the studio and down the hallway to his bedroom. He would put up a fight, would try to weasel his way back to the other room in order to eke out a few more hours of practice; but he's tired after so many months of near-constant work, and resigns himself to being pulled away. Ryuichi closes the door softly behind them, and then his fingers are splayed across his chest, smoothing over the fabric of his t-shirt before moving down.

"You don't need this," he remarks with a faint smile, fingers catching in the hem of it and pulling it up, then over the guitarist's head. He reaches up to smooth the other man's hair down afterward, a small, affectionate gesture that makes Sugizo's heart skip a beat, and lifts himself upward to kiss him once more, deeper this time.

Ryuichi's hands roam across his chest as they kiss, down the lean expanse of his stomach, and Sugizo's skin is receptive, warming to the other man's delicate touches. When they finally part he looks down, gaze lingering on the singer's swollen lips, and he's so distracted by the way they look that he doesn't realize he's being pushed down onto the futon until the light ripple of laughter fills his ears.

"Yune," Ryuichi murmurs against the sharp line of his jaw, " _down_." He cups the older man's shoulder and presses down, firm but without overwhelming force, and when the guitarist drops down with a dull thud, the ever-present ache in his feet immediately starts to lessen, however slightly. Sugizo doesn't want to admit it, but it comes as a relief, and he reaches out to Ryuichi, motioning for the shorter man to join him.

"Mm," Ryuichi hums, backing up just out of reach and folding his arms across his chest. "No, not yet. Lie back," he says, eyes bright, and moves forward to stand between the other man's splayed legs. His knee bends as he lifts his leg just so, and then he brings the ball of his foot to rest at the center of Sugizo's chest, pushing against it until the guitarist relents and lowers himself against the mattress.

When Ryuichi's foot doesn't move right away Sugizo meets his gaze with a puzzled expression, but the vocalist only grins, trailing it down the center of his chest, his stomach—and the guitar's breath hitches audibly when the other man's heel comes to rest against his crotch, grinding into it in slow, measured movements. There's something mildly imperious about the way Ryuichi looks down at him, and about the way he applies a steady, systematic pressure that stirs him swiftly to hardness.

"Comfortable?" The singer asks lightly, and it's clear from his tone that he means more than just his positioning against the futon. Sugizo pauses a moment before responding, as the unmistakable warmth of something similar to—but not quite—embarrassment creeps up his neck. He's not used to being on the receiving end of such treatment, and Ryuichi has always been more than willing to bend to his own proclivity for control; and so it surprises Sugizo, for the other man to take that control into his own hands so effortlessly.

But despite how taken aback he is by the seamless shift in dynamics, there's a large part of him that wants it to continue. His hips jerk involuntarily when a bit more pressure is applied, and Ryuichi seems pleased at his responsiveness, dragging his sole in firm, deliberate movements along the fly of his jeans. "Yes," he replies after what seems like a lifetime, and his voice is thin, caught hoarsely in his throat as Ryuichi leans into him more.

When Sugizo's back hits the futon Ryuichi withdraws with a hum of contentment, eyes raking over the guitarist beneath him. With a self-satisfied smile he drops down to finally join him, still fully dressed as he first kneels, then straddles him, and Sugizo's hands shoot out to palm at his ass, unable to hide how hungry he is for the other man. Ryuichi is less delicate now than he once was, and there's a pleasant weight to him as he settles atop his hips.

Sugizo gets one good squeeze in before Ryuichi's eyes narrow and he reaches around to swat his eager hands away, and the guitarist withdraws them in short order, puzzled by the action and making a questioning noise in the back of his throat. "Not yet," Ryuichi intones, bringing his hands up to loosen the tie around his neck. "Just—" he pauses as he undoes his tie, then gathers Sugizo's wrists with a grin, "—let me take care of this, hmm?"

Sugizo's eyes widen as Ryuichi uses the tie to bind his wrists above his head, snug but painless as they drop against the pillow. He can feel his heart pound against his chest, and tries to overcome his instinct to try and twist free of his bindings. When Ryuichi shifts above him it snaps his attention away from his restraints, redirects his thoughts to the subtle movements against his lap.

"I thought I was supposed to rest," he says breathlessly, and Ryuichi laughs as he trails his fingers down the other man's chest, clothed hips grinding down against Sugizo's.

"You're still wound up," he observes, blunt nails scraping across his ribs, "I can feel it. I'll have to wring that out of you, first."

The guitarist shudders involuntarily, back arching minutely in response to the touch. Ryuichi excels at drawing reactions from him with his words, and this is no different; but the singer falls silent after that, concentrating on rolling his hips against Sugizo's and smoothing his hands up his chest, around his shoulders. It's good for a while, like this: with Ryuichi's movements spreading a muted pleasure to the tips of Sugizo's fingers, and his hands mapping the sinewy muscle of his torso.

In time though, the dull friction between them leaves Sugizo left wanting, and he hisses at the slow grind of Ryuichi's arousal against his own, bucking his hips up as best he can while weighed down. The muscles in his legs and stomach tense, and his arms twitch uselessly against the pillow. Ryuichi can tell he's getting impatient, so he pulls himself away to undress, removing each article of clothing unhurriedly as the other man watches with heated interest.

"Finally," he murmurs once the vocalist returns to him, expecting the rest of his own clothing to be removed next. But Sugizo remains only half-undressed as the other man eases back onto the futon and sits astride him once more. He can feel the taller man straining against the confines of his jeans, rubbing against the curve of his ass as he positions himself just so, and when Sugizo almost _whimpers_ from the contact it's music to his ears.

"What do you want?" Ryuichi asks, voice soft as he curves forward to trail kisses down the guitarist's chest. Sugizo closes his eyes as his lips idle over a nipple, and he lets his head fall back against the pillow, quiet as he considers the question. What he wants to do is reach out and grasp him tightly by the thighs, drag his nails along the soft surface of them until he leaves jagged marks that linger on his skin for days. He wants to sit up, throw him back against the mattress and kneel between his open legs, he wants to bury himself to the hilt and mouth at the hollow of his throat until Ryuichi's practically sobbing for more.

But when the smaller man pulls back his only response is hoarse, gasped out as he watches Ryuichi's palm drag over the length of his own erection. "You," he answers simply, eyes fixed on the way Ryuichi's thumb rubs lazy circles over the head of his cock, smearing the bead of precome collecting there. He brings the digit to his lips, sucks at it while Sugizo's throat goes dry, and it's then that he strains in earnest at the tie wrapped around his wrists, patience wearing thin as his desperation grows. " _You_ , Ryuichi, fuck, let me taste you. _Please_."

The singer slides up the length of his body with a smile too sharp for his bowed lips, until he has one knee on either side of Sugizo's shoulders, and the guitarist immediately cranes his neck as far as he can in order to mouth at him. Ryuichi's hips rock forward and his cock slips past Sugizo's lips, and it makes the older man groan, cheeks hollowing as he begins to suck. The tightness around his wrists eases as he loses himself to the feel of Ryuichi's arousal against his tongue, and the feel of fingers threading in his hair, curling in auburn strands and guiding his head forward with gentle tugs.

It isn't long before Sugizo finds himself wishing he could reach for him, claw at his ass and urge him further into his mouth—but Ryuichi seems to know what he wants despite his own inability to do so, and rests his weight more sturdily on his knees before thrusting deeper. He moans around him almost instantly, lips and throat straining as he hollows his cheeks, and Ryuichi hums his approval as his head tips back, murmuring the other man's name.

Ryuichi fucks into his mouth and it's perfect, unrelenting. When Sugizo finally pulls back to breathe with a ragged gasp his watering eyes meet Ryuichi's bright ones, and the younger man curves forward to cup his jaw, wiping errant tears from his cheeks. "You're doing so well," he says around a sigh, slipping damp fingers back into his hair. After he catches his breath Sugizo urges forward once again, running the flat of his tongue up the length of him in one long sweep.

Ryuichi reaches between his legs to stroke himself as Sugizo laps at him, spread legs trembling from the sensations as much as the strain of holding his position. His moans grow breathy as he edges closer towards his release, stroking faster to match the hurried pace Sugizo has set and tightening his fingers in his hair. He signals his orgasm with a sharp gasp of the guitarist's name, hunched body wracked with tremors as Sugizo's head bobs incessantly.

The singer doesn't even realize his eyes are squeezed shut until he opens them only to be met with the sight of Sugizo, swollen-lipped and gasping as come leaks down his chin. He reaches down from his position astride him and catches it with his thumb, then slips the digit into the other man's waiting mouth with a sated hum. Sugizo sucks at him until the traces of his release are gone, then pulls back to peer at him with lidded eyes.

Ryuichi smiles sweetly, shifting up onto his haunches before curving down to kiss him, tongue delving into his mouth until the guitarist groans beneath him. He can taste himself on Sugizo's tongue, and although the fire in him has subsided for now, the taste of it rekindles something low in the pit of his stomach. Ryuichi's so lost in kissing him that he almost doesn't notice the faint sound of Sugizo's ineffectual moans, and it's then that he finally pulls back, one hand running down his chest.

"Ryuichi," Sugizo begins, voice rough in his throat. He's still almost unbearably hard in his jeans, and the other man has made no move to rid him of them, or to touch him at all. it's maddening, and for once he isn't too proud to beg. "Ryuichi, _please_ ," he bids, hoarse with unmitigated arousal. "I want you." He wants him so bad it hurts, and that he can't take matters into his own hands only makes him that much more desperate for relief. His arms strain from their stretched out position above his head, and the taut muscles of his bicep twitch as Ryuichi's fingertips trace them idly.

"You'll have me," Ryuichi murmurs, withdrawing once more and crossing the room to the dresser. He finds the lubricant in its customary place and returns to the futon, dropping the bottle off to the side before finally, _finally_ reaching for the fastenings of the other man's pants. He takes care of his jeans first, shucking them off and tossing them to the floor—and when his fingers slip beneath the elastic of his briefs Sugizo's hips jerk of their own accord, desperate for contact.

Fingers creep along his abdomen unhurriedly, roaming over a hip bone, down one of the veins that disappear beneath the hem of his underwear. Sugizo tries to limit his movements but Ryuichi's brief, teasing touches incite him, feet bracing momentarily on the mattress in an attempt to better move his hips. The sudden force of it hurts too much though, and he sighs in frustration as his legs straighten out once more.

Ryuichi _tsk_ s in response, hand gliding down the long stretch of his now-motionless leg. "You'll be healed up in no time," he murmurs, glancing down at the other man's swollen ankle. "But for now, try to be patient. It'll be worth it."

"Easier said than done," Sugizo replies through gritted teeth, not quite testy but coming closer as time wears on. His foot is aching again and all he wants is for Ryuichi to do something, to finally touch him; and then the singer does, curling his fingers in the waistband of his briefs and pulling them down past his hips. Even the momentary drag of fabric over his cock is _something_ after so much neglect, and he groans in the wake of it, all but squirming from where he lies on the futon.

His exertions come to an end when Ryuichi straddles him once more, settling on his abdomen with the bottle of lubricant in hand. Sugizo's cock juts against the curve of his ass, and the contact is tantalizing but quite enough. "Yune," the vocalist breathes as he rolls the bottle over in his hand, inching back until the other man's erection is flush against him. "You're so hard for me." He reaches back to curl his fingers around him, grip imprecise at his current angle, and gives Sugizo one slow pull that wrenches a hoarse gasp from his throat.

His hand is gone swiftly after, and when he turns his attentions to uncapping the bottle Sugizo's muscles tense in anticipation. He watches intently as Ryuichi coats his fingers with lubricant and reaches around once more, lifting himself onto his knees as he begins to prepare himself.

The older man's hands ball instinctively into fists at the sight of him, pink-cheeked and panting as he eases one slick finger inside of himself. Sugizo wishes those were his fingers—he knows the effect they have on Ryuichi, and he loves to render the smaller man incoherent as he works him open, slow and exacting in the way they delve inside him. It's a useless undertaking, to try and worm out of the tie wrapped snugly around his wrists, but Sugizo can't help himself as he watches Ryuichi rock down on his own fingers, thrusting shallowly after adding a second.

Ryuichi's expression is contorted with bliss as he fucks himself on his fingers, and any other day Sugizo would have been content to watch him all afternoon, goading him into thrusting harder or adding another finger. It's the sort of sight that steals the very breath from his lungs: the singer on display for him like something to be admired, savored. Today though, it makes him more ravenous to take him, to feel the tight heat of him—and he exhales a wavering breath as he watches, forehead damp with sweat.

When Ryuichi finally finishes he withdraws his fingers with a slick wet noise, shuddering at the momentary loss. But then he's reaching for the bottle again and settling back to upend it on Sugizo's cock, coating it thoroughly in lubricant. It seems he isn't willing to draw things out any longer, because within moments he's lifting himself up to position himself and sinking down onto Sugizo with a low moan.

Finally, the guitarist thinks as white light bursts behind his eyelids, eyes squeezed shut in response to the sudden heat that engulfs him. Sugizo's nails are biting into his own palms as he curls his fingers into fists, white-knuckled as he tips his head back and lets out a moan of his name. With his eyes closed it takes him a moment to notice that the other man is leaning forward, one hand planted against his chest, and not until his arms fall slack against the mattress does he realize his wrists have been untied.

There are hands at Ryuichi's hips at once and only then does the singer begin to move, setting a hurried pace that makes up for his earlier teasing. For every roll of his hips Sugizo snaps his own upward, gripping hard as he buries himself deeper. It's an immediate shock to his senses, at long last, and there's no way he'll last long but he's determined to make every moment count, reaching up with one arm to cup his cheek and draw him down for a kiss.

Ryuichi plunges his fingers into the other man's hair as he returns the kiss, tugging at it demandingly and groaning when the other man's teeth sink into his lower lip. Sugizo drinks down each moan breathed against his mouth, hand drifting from his jaw to the nape of his neck. his nails drag along Ryuichi's skin as he does so, and it makes him shudder, spine arching as they make their way down it.

His nails leave jagged red marks as they rake down the length of his back, but they don't linger there long. His hand smooths over the curve of his ass before squeezing harshly, right as he angles his hips for another sharp thrust. Ryuichi pulls away from the kiss with a gasp, hissing out a hoarse fuck before burying his face in the crook of the other man's neck. He trails blistering kisses and nips up the column of it, teeth dragging in a way that pulls gasping moans from the other man's throat.

Sugizo manages to thrust up into Ryuichi as best he can without the proper leverage, but in time it becomes too taxing on the muscles of his arms and stomach and he pauses, pulling the other man down onto his cock and holding him there with nails biting into his skin. Ryuichi moans against the bruise he's sucking onto his neck, momentarily dazed by the sensation of having him so deep. And then he pulls back with one final flick of his tongue, body extending leisurely above him, and begins to rock his hips, head thrown back as he lets out an exhale.

"Mm, fuck," he murmurs as Sugizo's hands find the join of Ryuichi's hips and thighs, shifting minutely beneath him and grinning when the singer lets out a high-pitched gasp. "Fuck, Yune, _yes_ ," he urges, practically singing as he rolls down against him. "Right there." He lifts himself up onto his knees, until only the slick head of Sugizo's cock remains inside him, then sinks back down with another shuddering moan, burying him to the hilt. He sets a hurried, almost desperate pace like that, and in time the sounds of their harsh breathing, and of skin meeting skin, are all they can hear in the guitarist's sun-warmed bedroom.

When Ryuichi comes a second time Sugizo feels it rather than sees it; feels the trembling of his thighs and the tensing around his cock, hears the way he releases a broken whimper of his name. He doesn't relent in the way he grinds down against Sugizo though, rocking through his aftershocks with his eyes shut and lips parted in a silent cry. That's all it takes for Sugizo to come as well, nails sinking into the pliable flesh of his hips, holding him tightly as tremors course through the taut muscles of his abdomen, his limbs.

It takes Sugizo a long moment to steady his breaths, and it takes him longer still to release his vice-like grip on Ryuichi's hips. The singer hunches forward, errant curls falling in his eyes, and after taking a steadying breath he lifts himself up and off of the other man, wincing at the stickiness between his legs but making no move to clean up, not yet. He murmurs contentedly, cheek pressed against Sugizo's angular shoulder as he urges a quick kiss to it, stilling momentarily before he pushes himself up on his elbows and makes to stand.

Sugizo watches him pad across the bedroom blearily, still sprawled on his back and rubbing at his slightly tender wrists. It's a pleasant distraction from the much more serious aching in his feet, and he inspects the faint red marks with a half-smile. Ryuichi returns to his side once he's finished cleaning himself off in the bathroom, burrowing his face in his neck once more and idling kisses up the length of it.

"You did so well," he says in lighthearted tones, one hand settling against the flat plane of his stomach and tracing an errant pattern there. "Feeling tired yet?"

Sugizo had already forgotten how tightly-wound he'd been not too long ago, how brimming he'd been with nervous energy despite the soreness in his feet, the exhaustion from months of touring. He feels calmer now, with the worst of his concert-related anxieties dampened for the time being. He nods then, shifting onto his side and reaching out to brush Ryuichi's hair away from his temple. He presses a kiss there lightly before dropping back to the pillow, letting out a breathless sigh. "Definitely," he answers, a tired grin spreading across his features. "And I could certainly get used to your methods of wearing me out."

Ryuichi laughs against his shoulder, and the sound of it vibrates right down to his fingertips, relaxing him further still. Boneless and spent after being at Ryuichi's whims, it doesn't take the guitarist long to fall into a comfortable midday drowse, and the shorter man follows close behind, curled against him snugly. That evening when Sugizo wakes up his ankle feels a little less sore, and it eases any remaining traces of discontent from the forefront of his mind. Ryuichi stirs when he sits up, and peers at him through sleep-tousled curls.

"How about takeout?" He suggests, and the singer pushes himself up on his elbows, giving him a knowing grin.

"Delivery," the vocalist amends, pushing onto his knees in order to kiss along his jaw. "You're going to take it easy until the tour starts up again. I'll be keeping an eye on you to make sure of it."

"Should I take that as a threat?" Sugizo says with a grin, and Ryuichi laughs softly against his cheek.

"Yes," he says, lips trailing down to his neck. "Absolutely."


End file.
